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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244547">You are bound (Come, follow)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusensical/pseuds/amusensical'>amusensical</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Light Bondage, Music, My First AO3 Post, Singing is sexy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:06:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusensical/pseuds/amusensical</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Waiting at the library desk to return a book, humming a tune, a round, and he joins in. Standing there, singing together, <em>Come, follow, follow, follow</em>, and you say, "Anywhere."</p><p>  <em>You are stood together, breath to breath, song to song, and you lean into the delight. You are bound.</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>When In Rome Secret Santa 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_of_the_beholder/gifts">jay_of_the_beholder</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Very best wishes for a happy Christmas and a new year filled with laughter, peace, and interesting ideas. This gift will always be my first posted work, so you will always be part of everything that comes after.</p><p>Sing along with the audio file in Chapter 2.<br/>Adapted from a November chatfic, inspired by the Romans and fittingly, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26378509">Slow Dance With You</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Come follow, follow, follow </em>
</p><p>You really meant it as a joke. Said it, as a joke, but meant it.</p><p>He heard it, heard you, <em>hears you</em></p><p>Heard you humming <em>hears you</em> and picked up the tune and said</p><p><em>Sang </em>"Lovely tune, one of my favorites."</p><p> </p><p>You turned and he was there. Right there. You heard his breath, that smile, </p><p><em>That </em>smile</p><p>So you said it. As a joke. <em>He heard you.</em> But meant it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Follow, follow, follow me</em>
</p><p>So, humming, you and he <em>humming </em>walked the corridor, and he put his hand on the back of your neck.</p><p>Around. Thumb, fingers, palming the whole back of your head as you walked. Humming.</p><p>You hear him, just behind you, take up the tune, more than humming but soft, soft, a walking song, a waking song, a taking song.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wither shall I follow, follow </em>
</p><p>They don't know, passing in the corridor. You hear his smile of greeting in the tune as they pass, then the corner, around the corner... you stumble, a bit <em>and the minor key is a warning, a promise</em> and the hand at your neck slips down to your shoulder, your arm (that grip is a promise).</p><p>At the door, a lock, a key, a key change, the tune has changed. You are stood, in the room, one side chilled where it was pressed to his side. There is a key, a lock, the tune.</p><p>"Did you mean it?" His hand under your jaw, gods those fingers. You hear your heart, your breath, the muscles at the tops of your legs warm from the walk, a humming in your ears.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Follow, follow thee</em>
</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Yes?" Tilting his hand, grasping your arm just above your elbow, there's a soft, leaning note and you are knelt, the two of you, breath to breath. A moment. <em>He hears</em></p><p>Two handed, singing again, he strokes your hair, your arms, your cheeks. At the end of each verse, he holds the note and holds your eyes. Kisses you.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>To the greenwood, to the greenwood</em>
</p><p>He stands first, and lifts you to standing from behind. His mouth, his song is behind your ear, and his hands are at your buttons. "Easier without those long sleeves," he breathes as your shirt slips to the floor. His hands, again, stroking your arms, then guiding them behind you.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>To the greenwood, follow me</em>
</p><p>“Listen.”</p><p>Pressing your hands together, palm to palm, a note, held.</p><p>Pressing your wrists together, pulse  to pulse, the note shifts, a major third.</p><p>Pressing your forearms together, smooth, the major fifth.</p><p>His mouth above your shoulders, slowly, the breath, the note.</p><p>Pressing your elbows together, the minor seventh... resolves on the octave.</p><p>You are bound.</p><p> </p><p>"You are bound." Your shoulders are pulled back, chest out, and you shift your weight just a bit for balance.</p><p>"Test it." His spoken words are music, still. There is a sense of binding, at palm and wrist and elbow. "The same notes unbind, hummed or sung. All right?"</p><p>He is standing at your side, unbuttoning his shirt. Humming, as if the music just brims up and spills out. The ridiculous cuffs, the two pearls at his throat. </p><p>"Yes." <em>oh yes, on a long breath out</em>
  <em>that he catches in his mouth, his hand in your hair</em>
</p><p>The music is there, in the kisses <em>open to me</em></p><p>Music, and the sense of delight <em>open to me</em></p><p>"Sing with me" <em>oh yes, on a shaky breath in</em></p><p>He sings, and you follow, and it twines around into the round, into echoes and back.</p><p> </p><p>It's almost a dance as he undresses himself, then you. A touch, a turn, a nod, a step, and again <em>come, follow</em></p><p>You are stood together, breath to breath, song to song, and you lean into the delight <em>you are bound</em></p><p>and the warmth fills your core as the music fills your head  <em>follow, follow, follow me</em></p><p> </p><p>Just when you settle, the notes shift, just enough to change the whole tune and make everything thrum.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. [MUSIC] Come, follow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Audio file is <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/17byy2E-TNbNRProC11EwA3AX0PtEJ32d/view?usp=sharing">here.</a><br/>
To sing along as a round, start with "Come follow" when the other singer sings "Whither shall I"</p><p>Come, follow, follow, follow<br/>
Follow, follow, follow me.</p><p>Whither shall I follow, follow, follow?<br/>
Whither shall I follow, follow thee?</p><p>To the greenwood,<br/>
To the greenwood,<br/>
To the greenwood,<br/>
Follow me.</p>
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